The Way We Were
by Nvrmore
Summary: MWPP Story. Book One. My version of the lives of our favorite Marauders. F.Y.I. For those of you who hate Peter, you can skip chapters 1 and 7 and the story should still make sense. Thank You.
1. Chapter 1

A/N Usual Disclaimers Apply. I own nothing. I've just been greatly inspired by the brilliance of others.

Also, the plan is for this to be the first "book" in a three part series covering the lives of our beloved Marauders. I tried to stick to canon where I could. I took liberties at times, and there were times where canon is not clear so I guestimated. Thank you so much to Harry Potter Lexicon (wwwdothp-lexicondotorg) - you guys rock! - and Wikipedia and Mugglenet (wwwdotmugglenetdotcom) and TADAHmon (before I give out your fanfiction address, I'll ask, but thanks for being so willing to answer questions for me).

And, for those who may pick up this series later, I am currently writing it between books 6 and 7 so whatever more is revealed about our beloveds' past in book 7 obviously hasn't been integrated into my storyline.

Okay. Enough babble... Onword!

Book One

The Way We Were

Chapter 1

Peter listened as his mum spoke proudly to the other ladies at her weekly afternoon tea. "Just got his letter today. Isn't that wonderful? Of course I always knew he'd go. I mean, his Aunt Dolores thought he might be a squib, but I've known from the time he was born… Such a special boy."

Peter's mother was, of course, referring to his Hogwarts letter. It had just come by owl this morning. Mrs. Pettigrew had been so excited. Probably more excited than her son. Peter's whole world was his mother. This was not necessarily by choice; it was just the way things were. His mother schooled him during his grammar years. His father had died when he was still quite young, and Peter did not remember him. But his mother had turned an unhealthy amount of time, energy, and attention to her son. Peter, therefore, had very little opportunity to interact with kids his age. When he was around other children, he was often picked on and bullied or, on good days, he was ignored.

So part of Peter was very nervous about going off to school. He would be surrounded by kids and the potential for bullying grew exponentially. On the other hand… Surely he would find a few other children with whom to relate. Out of a school of hundreds of children, he should definitely be able to make one friend. He would also finally be able to get away from his mother. It wasn't that he didn't love his mum. He did, very much. But he knew that eventually he would have to do things for himself. It was a prospect that filled him both with fear and hope. He would love to be able to prove to himself that his mum was not the only person who felt he was worthwhile and "special."

Peter sat at the top of the stairs, playing with a few of his quidditch figures and watching them fly around, all the while listening to the conversation taking place in the sitting room below. This had become a regular practice. He was always amazed at the gossip he overheard. He learned about various witches and wizards: who was doing what, who was accused of dabbling in the Dark Arts, who was most recently appointed to this or that position in the ministry. It helped Peter feel less isolated from the rest of the wizarding world.

"That's wonderful, Gloria!" Peter thought that was Mrs. McGuiness. "Will you be going to Diagon Alley to purchase his books and supplies, then?"

"Oh, yes. We will be going on Saturday. There are so many things to buy. But we'll manage. He's a strong boy, too." Peter rolled his eyes at this, though he still smiled at the praise. His mother continued on excitedly for the next half an hour. He tuned out his mum's voice, knowing he would not be getting the latest gossip today.

As the guests were preparing to leave, Peter stealthily grabbed his things and headed back to his room. When he was sure everyone had left, he went down the stairs to help his mum clean up.

"Thank you, dear. What a good boy," Mrs. Pettigrew said and patted his head. Peter smiled politely. "All of the ladies were thrilled to hear you received your letter today. I think we will go to Diagon Alley on Saturday to pick up your supplies. Won't that be lovely?"

"Yes, mum." Peter answered, pretending he had not heard her mention the trip already. "I'll be getting my wand, then?"

"Of course. You must have a proper wand with which to do your lessons."

This is one thing to which Peter was truly looking forward. He told himself that, once he had his wand, he would not be so helpless anymore. He had to learn a few spells, too, of course. The only spells he was familiar with were domestic spells –for cleaning and tidying up. He wondered if he would be very far behind other kids in the area of spells. This made him nervous again. He felt as if he were on a broom, sometimes flying high and then suddenly dropping low. "Will I be able to get a broom?"

"No, they don't allow first years to have a broom. But that is included in your first-year lessons." Peter wasn't sure how he felt about this either. There was something thrilling about the idea of flying. He loved quidditch as much as the next boy. But he rather thought he would prefer his feet on the ground. It seemed much less dangerous to fall from a few feet as opposed to some great height. He just hoped he didn't embarrass himself during the lessons.

Over the course of the next couple of days, Peter looked repeatedly at the letter from Hogwarts, sometimes feeling a thrill of excitement, other times feeling nervous and uncertain. His mind seemed to be constantly filled with scenarios of what his life was about to become and he couldn't decide whether to look forward to what was coming or not. Finally, on Friday night, he decided that he really did not have a choice. Hogwarts would come whether he wanted it or not. He might as well at least try to look forward to it.

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A/A/N - I cannot leave a chapter without thanking my editors - Mom and Mei Mei - thanks for the spit and polish - and my beta and friend - J.A.Carlton - thanks for your many hours of time, for being a sounding board, and for making suggestions to help refine the story ... and so much more.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimers - Usual. I own nothing but the time I choose to put into this. Thanks for the inspiration J.K. Rowling. Enjoy.

Chapter 2

It was one o'clock in the afternoon when Remus finally woke up. He lay in his bed a few minutes, surveying the aches in his body. His parents had started chaining him to the wall with his head locked a certain distance off the ground and no slack in the chain, so his head could not reach the rest of his body. This way he was unable to bite and scratch himself as he used to. This was a good thing. But his muscles ached from the straining of the wolf trying to break free, and his neck was red and raw, both inside and out. He half expected to hang himself one day, or choke himself, or break his own neck. It was a secret fear that he would never share with his parents, though. He did not want to burden them any more than he already did. He reached up and gently touched his neck. It was already wrapped in gauze. A tear slipped from his eye and he quickly wiped it away. His mother would be up to check on him soon, so he pushed down his fear, pain, and loneliness, and waited.

Sure enough, a few minutes later he heard a gentle knock on his door.

"Come in," he said in a hoarse whisper and scooted himself to a sitting position. His father opened his bedroom door for his mother. She was carrying a tray with some soup, a potion – probably a healing potion of some kind – and what looked like the post. They entered his room, his father stopping at the end of his bed, his mother continuing around and sitting down next to him, placing the tray on his lap.

"How are you doing, son?" his father asked, patting his foot.

He nodded his head in the affirmative and swallowed a teaspoonful of the potion his mother offered. Subconsciously, his hand reached toward his neck. His mother and father exchanged worried looks, and a tense silence settled on the room. Remus hated that his parents' lives had become as isolated as his own. They were as much prisoners of his life as he was, and it lay a mantle of guilt on his shoulders that no nine-year-old has the right to bear.

Not wanting to look at his parents, he reached for the letter that, he was surprised to see, was addressed to him.

Seeing his movement, his mother said "Oh!" in hushed but excited voice. She even bounced slightly on the bed. "Open it, love."

Remus glanced at his parents in turn and then flipped the envelope over. He saw the Hogwarts insignia on the back and his heart skipped a beat. He smiled and again looked from his mother to his father. His father was also smiling and gave him a nod of encouragement. Remus shifted on the bed and then tore the letter open and read, his smile growing with each word he read.

"I've been accepted! They're going to let me attend!" He continued reading, but his smile started to fade and his brow furrowed. "We have to meet with Headmaster Dumbledore on Saturday." He looked at his father.

Mr. Lupin nodded his head. "Yes, we received a letter, too. Professor Dumbledore wants to take certain… precautions while you're there. They're for your own good. To keep you safe."

"You mean to keep others safe…"

"To keep you safe," his father emphasized. "Not everyone will be… willing to have you at the school, if they know…" He left the sentence hanging.

_If they know I'm a werewolf._ "I don't know. Do you really think…?"

"Oh yes, dear," Mrs. Lupin chimed in, her eyes alight with delight. "If anyone can keep you safe and know the best way to deal with your condition, it would be Professor Dumbledore." She took Remus' hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I think we can go to the meeting on Saturday and still have time to stop by Diagon Alley to get your books and supplies," she said with a satisfied nod. Mrs. Lupin leaned over, carefully so as not to spill his soup, and gave her son a hug. When she pulled away, she was smiling, but her eyes were full of tears. "I'm so happy for you." She wiped at her eyes.

Mr. Lupin came up behind his wife and put a hand on her shoulder. "We both are, son. And we're so proud of you, too." He leaned over and kissed the top of his son's head. Then both left his room.

Remus ate his soup, wincing occasionally from the pain in his throat, but he suddenly felt lighter than he could ever remember feeling. He read through the letter several more times, allowing himself the joy of the moment. This was something he never expected. The laws were getting more and more strict with regards to what werewolves were allowed to do. He didn't honestly know if he would be given a chance to do anything with his education, but this gave him more hope than he had in a long time. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he would not allow himself to dwell on anything that would ruin his mood. Not yet. That could wait until Saturday.

A/N

I know it doesn't do justice, but thanks who read and review. Thanks to Mom and Mei Mei for editing. Thanks to J.A. Carlton for the input and help. Love!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer - Usual. I own nothing. I'm certainly not making any money. Thank you, Rowlings for the 'verse in which to play.

Chapter 3

"I'm going to Hogwarts! I'm going to Hogwarts!" Sirius tore through the house yelling as loudly as he could, waving his Hogwarts letter over his head. He was ecstatic. He would finally be leaving this house, even if it was just during the school terms. He could get away from the old crone and her insane, pure-blood, illusions-of-grandeur mentality… and her screaming. Oh, to not have to hear that screechy, shrill, make-blood-pour-from-your-ears voice!

Regulus peaked his head out of the study, "What are you on about?"

Sirius changed his yells to a sing-song taunt, "I'm going to Hogwarts. I'm going to Hogwarts." He paused long enough in his running around to wave his letter in front of Regulus' face. Then he one-arm hugged his brother and tried to pull him with him as he continued prancing about the house. Regulus shoved him off and followed sulkily behind. When Sirius reached the sitting room of the Black Family Manor, he saw his mother standing in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest, looking outraged.

"Sirius Orion Black! Come here this instant!" she yelled.

Sirius skipped up to her and halted, a big grin plastered across his face. Regulus stayed in the hallway, close enough to hear what was going on, but far enough away that his mother wouldn't take notice of him.

"What is the meaning of all that racket?" she demanded.

"I got my Hogwarts letter today." He held the letter up in front of her.

She grabbed the letter from him but continued to glare at him. "Well of course you did! You're a Black. That is no reason to go tearing through the house, screaming like a banshee."

_No, it takes much less to get you to do that_, Sirius thought, and wisely kept the thought to himself. But this only caused his smile to widen.

"Now compose yourself, child. You are a Black and I will not have you acting like a hooligan or common mudblood."

_I am leaving. I am leaving. I am escaping from _her Sirius kept repeating to himself. She would not spoil this for him.

"You know, your father and I seriously considered not allowing you to attend Hogwarts with that mudblood-loving fool for a headmaster."

This wiped the smile off Sirius' face. The possibility that he would not be allowed to attend had never occurred to him.

Mrs. Black seemed satisfied by the abrupt change in mood she had been able to elicit in her son. She scanned the letter and said, half to herself, "Of course, not everyone there holds those views. And it is still the best education a wizard can get." Shifting her attention back to her son she said, "You will be placed in Slytherin. That should help keep you focused. Yes… I'll let Druella know. Bella and Narcissa will be able to introduce you to the right people, AND," she added with a glare, "keep an eye on you."

It always amazed Sirius how easily his mother could suck all joy out of special occasions for him.

"Go tell your father. We will need to get your supplies on Saturday."

Sirius headed to his father's private study. He was walking more subdued now, with his head down. He knocked on the door of the study and waited to be acknowledged. It was a full two minutes before his father indicated that he knew Sirius was there and called him in. The study was a round room, filled from floor to ceiling with books. There was a fireplace across from the door, and a desk sat in the middle of the room. His father was writing notes on a piece of parchment when Sirius entered, and he did not look up.

Sirius continued to wait. If there had been any excitement that his mother had not managed to leech away, this waiting on his father killed it. It wasn't so much the waiting that bothered Sirius. Despite his boisterous personality and his natural exuberance, he had gotten very good at waiting. Not necessarily patiently, but silently at least. It was the fact that his father, who surely knew about the letter, did not acknowledge it. He was not proud of his son, his first-born heir to the Black Family Name – the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black - Toujours pur, blah, blah, blah. He was not excited for him and this new stage of his education. It was expected. He was expected to go to Hogwarts. He was expected to do well. He was expected to bring pride to the family by upholding the honor of the Blacks, whatever that meant. And anything that fell short of that expectation brought punishment, guilt, shame and the threat of being thrown out on the street and disowned.

As he stood waiting, a new energy started taking hold of him. It was not the excitement from earlier, but anger. And he was beginning to have trouble containing himself. He shifted restlessly.

Still without looking up, his father said, "Sirius, I know you're there. Do we need to review your lessons on waiting patiently?"

Sirius' hand clenched, but he answered in an even tone, "No sir. Sorry sir."

After another minute, his father finally looked up from his papers. "What do you have for me, son?"

Sirius cleared his throat, stepped forward and handed his letter to his father. "I received my Hogwarts letter today."

"Very well. Have you responded in the affirmative, yet?"

"No sir."

"And what were you waiting for?"

"Well, I…"

"You were running around the house like an animal. And then you upset your mother. This is not the behavior for a boy who is ready to attend such a prestigious school and begin his journey to manhood."

All Sirius could do was nod. He didn't trust himself to say anything, not that his jaw would unclench enough to allow for speech anyway.

"Fine. Send the reply. I expect your mother will want to go to Diagon Alley on Saturday. I have business to attend to that day. Go."

Again Sirius nodded. He gave a slight bow and walked out of the room. He gently closed the door behind him and stood with his hand resting on the door knob. He took a few steadying breaths and than ran to his room.

As he paced back and forth, trying not to let his anger become tears, he heard a knock at the door.

"What?" he spat out. His parents never knocked, they just entered, so he knew it wasn't either of them.

"It's me, Regulus."

Sirius cast about trying to find some way to look casual before he let his brother in the room. He found his wizard cards and started going through them. "Come in."

Regulus stole into his room and shut the door quietly behind him. "So you're going to Hogwarts in September."

"Yup." Sirius said. He looked at his brother and saw that he was frowning. He rolled his eyes. "What? Do you have something you want to say? Do you want to remind me to 'uphold the Black Family Honor' or tell me what a poor representative I am of the family?"

"No! I…" Regulus took a step toward his brother, but stopped. "I'm going miss you. That's is all."

Sirius was stunned for a minute.

"I mean, no one can make mum yell like you can," Regulus said with a grin. Sirius snorted in response. "And you come up with the best ways to frustrate the house elves. I really think you led the last one to an early beheading."

Sirius was grinning again, the load of disappointment lifted a little by his brother. "Yeah. I think she was almost begging for the beheading." He laughed. Their eyes locked for a moment, then Regulus nodded to his brother and headed toward the door.

"Regulus," Sirius called. His brother turned to look at him while his hand remained on the doorknob. "I am going miss you too with your whining and tattling and your…"

Regulus grabbed one of Sirius' shirts from the floor and threw it at his brother. "Git," he laughed back and walked out the door.

Sirius took a deep breath and walked to his window. He began imagining life at Hogwarts, and the smile and excitement from earlier returned, albeit tempered by all that had happened, but there. Sweet escape.

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A/N - And of course thanks to readers, reviewers, editors and betas - especially ShoesDoNotExist, Mom, Mei Mei, and J.A. Carlton. Ya'll rock!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Usual. I own nothing. Thank you Rowlings for inspiring.

Chapter 4

"Oi, James! Your mum's calling again."

James sighed and rolled his eyes. "All right, mates, I guess I better get inside. Same time tomorrow?"

"Sure. Bye, James." "Bye." "Later, mate."

James headed back to his home. He was suddenly feeling hungry. Good thing it was time for dinner.

"James! I called you three times." Mrs. Potter said crossly as she held the door open for him.

"Sorry, mum. I didn't hear you."

Mrs. Potter mussed his hair as he passed her in the doorway. "Well, clean up. Your father's waiting to eat."

"Yes, ma'am."

Once James was settled at the table, where his father was already seated, his mum poured him some iced tea. "Did you have a good day, dear?" she asked her husband.

"Yes, quite. I sat in on a few meetings at the Ministry. Someone is trying to make life more difficult for werewolves again."

"Oh?" Mrs. Potter prompted. James looked up from his food and listened to his father talk. He loved to hear about the goings-on at the Ministry of Magic. "As if they don't have a difficult enough life as it is."

"Well… some. It just seems more and more are turning their backs on the Ministry. I've heard Fenrir's name come up on more than one occasion."

"Can you blame them, really? I mean, they're excluded from so much of the normal wizarding world, why not exclude themselves from our laws, too."

"But I thought those laws were put in place to protect the general population," James joined the conversation.

Mr. Potter smiled at his son. "Very true, my boy." He leaned in close to his son. "I think your mother's heart is too big, sometimes."

"I heard that," she said. "I can just imagine if I was in that situation. I would hope for some kindness and charity."

"Kindness and charity are all fine and good, but when it comes to the protection of me and mine… I don't know. I just don't want them in a position to hurt my family. And preventing a fire is better for everyone than trying to stop one that's already started. I'm not just talking about werewolves, though. I really think they ought to make stricter laws against those known to be practicing the dark arts and in possession of dark artifacts."

"No good ever comes from practicing the dark arts." James stated, sounding much more knowledgeable than he really was.

"Right you are, my son." Mr. Potter said with a wink and a smile. "Play with fire and you're bound to get burned."

"My, my. You are stuck on the fire metaphors tonight, aren't you?" Mrs. Potter smiled teasingly at her husband.

"I'll show you fire, my dear," Mr. Potter said jovially back to his wife.

James groaned and rolled his eyes. "Please, not while I'm eating… or in the same room, for that matter." This statement caused both Mr. and Mrs. Potter to burst out laughing.

"Oh, James. Something came for you in the post today," Mr. Potter said casually.

"For me?" He looked from his father's casual face to his mother's beaming one. "Hogwarts!" he said excitedly and jumped from the table to grab the letter from the post's usual place on the table by the front door. "Yes!" he said and ran back to the kitchen table. He scanned the letter. "So when can we go get everything?" he asked.

"I think on Saturday," said Mrs. Potter. She looked to her husband who nodded a confirmation.

"Excellent!"

Saturday came around and James was so excited he was hardly able to sleep the night before. As he sat down at the table to eat breakfast, he asked, "So when can we go?"

His father chuckled, "As soon as we're done with breakfast."

James wolfed down his food in hopes of speeding things along.

"James, you should have eaten more slowly. You're going to have to wait for us to be done." Mrs. Potter chastised gently.

James sat quietly for all of 30 seconds. Then he started wiggling in his seat. "Mum?"

"We're not done yet."

James huffed and sat for another 30 seconds. "Mum?"

"James! Why don't you go… find something to do?" his mum suggested. Mr. Potter chuckled quietly to himself.

After what had to be the longest 20 minutes of his life, James went back to the kitchen. He saw that his mother had cleared the table. His father was still sipping his coffee and reading _The Daily Prophet_. James danced from one foot to the other. He glanced at his mother, who smiled and shook her head. James helped his mother tidy up a bit to pass the time, his father was still slowly sipping his coffee.

"Dad?" James couldn't contain himself any longer.

"Hmm?" Mr. Potter said, not lifting his eyes from the paper.

"Um… are you almost done?"

"In a minute."

James sighed. He started absently wondering the house. A few minutes later, he wasn't really sure how long, he ended up back in the kitchen. It appeared as if his father hadn't moved since the last time he'd been there. Even his mother looked as if she were trying to keep herself busy.

"Dad?"

"In a minute…"

"Charles," Mrs. Potter said. Her tone was a mixture of playful and chastising. She knew her husband was being painfully slow on purpose.

Mr. Potter heaved a great sigh as if being significantly put out. "Yes, yes. All right. We can go." And he lay his paper down next to his cup of coffee. "Shall we?"

"How are we going to get there?" James asked innocently. He really did not like traveling by floo powder.

"I was thinking side-along apparition." Mr. Potter said with a smile.

"Yes!" James said. It wasn't so much that he particularly enjoyed this form of travel either, though it was much better than either floo powder or port key. But it always reminded him that one day he would be able to do this on his own. It made him feel older than his eleven years.

"Shall we?" his father asked.

"Indeed, Mr. Potter," his mother smiled. And James rolled his eyes. Sometimes he just didn't understand adults.

When they arrived at Diagon Alley, they stopped at Gringotts. Once outside, James' mother asked, "So where do you want to go first?"

"Well, um… I was wondering…?"

"Yes?" Mr. Potter asked.

"Could I go… by myself?"

Mr. and Mrs. Potter exchanged glances. They seemed to hold a silent conversation. Finally, Mr. Potter looked at James. "Yes," at this James hissed "yes" in response, "BUT…" Mr. Potter made sure James was listening, "You do not wander out of Diagon Alley, and especially stay away from Knockturn Alley." He waited for James to nod his understanding and agreement before continuing. "You will meet us at 11 o'clock for your fitting and your wand, then we'll all go to lunch together. Now what time are we meeting?"

"11 o'clock" James repeated.

"Good."

"And James," his mother stepped closer to him, "Don't spend it all in one place." Mrs. Potter held out her hand and dropped a handful of coins into James' hands.

His eyes grew wide, "Thanks Mum, Dad!" He gave his mum a quick hug before hurrying off down the street.

James had always loved coming to Diagon Alley. There were so many wonderful things to see, even for someone born into a privileged wizard family, as he had been. His parents had already promised to get him an owl, so he was not worried about the type of animal they would get him. He perused some of the books in the bookstore. On those rare moments when James sat down, he actually loved reading, and he absorbed everything he read like a sponge. But as the morning drew on, the store that called to him and begged for his attention was Quality Quidditch Supplies. He was trying to avoid the store since he knew he was not allowed a broom as a first-year, nor would he be allowed to play Quidditch. But he loved the game and, try as he might, he couldn't resist the call. So he found himself standing in front of the window, eyeballing the latest broom model on display. After ogling it for a few minutes, he finally stepped inside the store and carefully looked at everything on display. He decided to buy a "practice" snitch. It moved almost as quickly as a real one, but it was bewitched to stay within five feet of its owner. Larger, much slower models were available for toddlers. And this one was for young children just starting out playing the game. James had owned one up until last year, but something had happened to it. He never did figure out what, he just couldn't find it anymore. He had learned, though, that while this didn't make for good practice for kids who actually wanted to be a seeker, since you could always find it within arms' length of your body, it did make a nice exercise in awareness and reflexes. James was going to be a chaser one day and he would need both awareness, to keep from being hit by a bludger, and reflexes, to be able to catch the quaffle in mid-flight while avoiding beaters and the other team's chasers.

It was time for him to meet his parents and have his fitting for his robes, so he sadly left Quality Quidditch Supplies_. I'll be back next year for a broom_, he promised himself. As he passed the book store, he noticed a boy heading into the store. He was wearing a high collar and looked as if he had just recently been ill. The boy smiled shyly at James, who smiled jovially back. He had to be the same age as James, since he was obviously shopping for school supplies; but there was something off about him. He looked both younger, or perhaps just more frail than James, as well as older, or maybe worn out. He briefly wondered what kind of illness he had, since wizards were not known for having many. Sure, there were a few, but not many and not at such a young age.

He saw several other boys that were obviously Hogwarts students, whether for the first time or not, James didn't know. Nor did he particularly care. He'd meet the other students soon enough. He walked into the Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and saw his parents waiting for him. They didn't look angry, so he probably made it on time for once.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I'm just finishing up with this young lady and I will be ready for you," the shopkeeper said.

"Good job, son," Mr. Potter was genuinely pleased that James had made his appointment on time. James smiled proudly back at his father.

The fitting and ordering of the robes took surprisingly little time. It was now time for, perhaps, the most exciting purchase of the day – the wand! This was almost as exciting as the quidditch store.

Mr. Ollivander was not what James had expected. He wasn't sure what he thought the man would look like, but the wizened, pale-eyed man in front of him wasn't it. He was silently glad his parents were with him at first. But, as he got used to Mr. Ollivander, his slightly creepy demeanor actually lent itself to the mystery of the wand-maker and his shop. After trying what seemed like a hundred wands, James finally got one, or, as Mr. Ollivander would say, the wand chose James. He was very pleased with his Mahogany wand - 11 inches, pliable. He looked up at his parents and they were both beaming down at him with pride. His mum had tears in her eyes.

"Come on," his father said. "Let's get lunch."

As they stepped out the door to the shop, Mr. Potter gave a slight cough. James looked up in time to see his parents exchange significant, and serious, glances. They crossed the street and headed toward Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. James looked around, wondering what caused this reaction from his parents. The only thing that really caught his eye was the family of wizards walking down the street toward Ollivander's. They carried themselves haughtily, even majestically, as if they were royalty. Intentionally or just by chance, people parted before them, rather than the family ever having to move out of the way of on-coming traffic. The parents looked down their noses at nearly every person they came across, while their two young boys, one James' age, the other a couple of years younger, showed signs of excitement, despite trying their best to remain regal and dignified.

"Who are they, Dad?" James asked his father.

"The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black," his father said in a disgusted tone. It wasn't often that James heard his father speak ill of anyone. Curious, he returned his gaze to the family, watching them until he couldn't do so without it becoming obvious.

"Dear," James heard his mother say in her gently chiding tone.

There was only one reason his father ever had for disliking a wizard. "Dark wizards," James said to himself, but it was loud enough for his father to hear.

"Yes. There are few who are as steeped in the Dark Arts as they. Three of them are already attending Hogwarts. It looks like The Heir will be starting with you, James. Steer clear of the lot of them. They're dangerous… and I don't want him influencing you."

James glanced back at the family. It was interesting to him that his father did not mention the boy's name, but simply referred to him as "The Heir."

James' thoughts were quickly diverted when he felt the snitch in his pocket move. "Mum, can I get a broom?"

"No, dear." This was a running joke between James and his mum. Every so often, he'd throw out the question, knowing that the answer would be the same each time. "Speaking of… What did you buy?" Mrs. Potter asked.

"Oh, I bought one of those practice snitches to take the place of the one that disappeared last year."

"You mean the one you lost," his father said.

"I didn't lose it," James said indignantly. "How can you lose something that stays within five feet of its owner at all times?"

"I find myself asking that very same question," his father smirked at James who huffed in protest.

"Here we are," Mrs. Potter said, subtly changing the subject. "What do you want to eat?"

As Mr. Potter put in their order, Mrs. Potter and James took seats at one of the small tables in the shop. James looked around at the other children. A small, round boy with his mother was chatting excitedly about something while taking occasional licks from his ice cream cone. There were groups of older children - friends from school - who took advantage of the day of shopping to catch up with each other and what they were doing over summer holiday.

James was excited about school for many reasons, but one of the foremost of those was the prospect of great friends. His parents were older than most wizards who had children his age. Therefore most of their friends had sons and daughters who were much older than James. He had made a few friends with the muggles in his neighborhood, but there was always the element of secrecy and guardedness around them. His family was well liked, so he had met other children from wizarding families as well; but for the most part, his family had kept to itself. His parents gave him everything he needed, and most things he wanted, but he still on occasion felt lonely. He was looking forward to being around kids who were like him, and not having to worry about keeping secrets, unless they were their secrets. But those were the secrets that made you feel included rather than excluded. Yes, for as blessed as his life was, school would only make it that much better. James smiled contentedly as he ate his food. The rest of the summer holiday couldn't end soon enough.

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A/N I hope ya'll are enjoying. Thanks to those who help make the story better - reviewers, my editors (Mom and mei mei) and my beloved beta, J.A.Carlton.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer - Same. I don't own anything in the Harry Potter 'verse. Thanks for the inspiration J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 5

Sirius' Saturday had left him exhausted. He started the day excited about going to Diagon Ally to get his Hogwarts things. He bounced out of bed, got dressed and ran to the dining room for breakfast. The rest of his day went downhill from there. Once at breakfast, he was surrounded by the very people he was so keen to escape from, Regulus aside, and this dampened the rest of his day.

At breakfast, both boys received the usual "instruction" about how Black's behave in public. Once they were actually in Diagon Alley, there were constant prods and squeezes of the shoulder if there was even the slightest hint that excitement might carry the boys away and, heaven forbid, they actually showed emotion. He was not allowed to travel on his own. Apparently his parents had an irrational fear that a few minutes alone would warp him for the rest of his life, so he was under constant guard. He slowly began to think that this was pretty much what life at Hogwarts would be like, too, except, instead of his parents, it would be his cousins keeping him in line. And in all honesty, Bellatrix Black scared Sirius. She was bigger and older and unrestrained. She was not afraid to use curses and hexes on her younger cousins and siblings if they got out of control, or even if she just needed some fun. Sirius had been known to pull pranks on his cousins; but to him, it was all in fun, though he did get particular joy from humiliating Bella whenever he got the chance. But he had actually witnessed Bella use the cruciatus curse on an animal once as a threat to her younger sister Andromeda. She didn't seem to have any inhibitions when it came to magic and threatening those she considered impure or unworthy.

Well, he would just have to make sure he was nowhere near his cousin. He wasn't really sure how likely that would be. He was a shoo-in for Slytherin, the same house Bella and Narcissa were in. Though, admittedly, he was pretty smart. He might just get lucky and go to Ravenclaw like Andromeda.

As the day wore on, though, Sirius became tired. This meant he was prone to outbursts, and less able to rein in his emotions. He let out a whoop when he got his wand. Mr. Ollivander seemed almost as pleased as he was, but the look his mother shot him told him he would pay later for his lack of control.

Finally, the torturous day ended. He didn't know how he had managed to spend the day equally excited and terrified. Truth be told, for as much anger as he carried around for his family, he would have given his eye-teeth for a "good job" or a "we're proud of you, son." His parents were much more lenient with Regulus. He was told it was because Regulus did not bear the weight of being the first-born heir to the Black Family name. His responsibility was not as great as Sirius'. He was also told that Regulus needed more encouragement because Sirius cast such a long shadow. Sirius supposed this was a compliment, but he would have loved to trade places with his brother… or anyone else for that matter.

When Sirius got to his room that night, he was very tempted to go to bed. However, this was the day Maggie was supposed to get home from visiting her relatives in the country. So instead, he paced the floor in front of his window, watching for the light.

Some time ago, the land around the Black Family home had been bought and developed. There were now muggles living on the same street as the most prejudiced pure-blood family in the wizarding world (or so Sirius thought). As a result, Sirius' father, Orion Black, had turned the family home into a veritable fortress. This not only protected the house from the "possible contamination of muggle filth," but it served the added benefit of keeping the occupants of the house, and any possible dark magic artifacts they might want to hide, safe from outsiders. Sirius tended to think he lived in a prison – a plush prison, admittedly, but a prison none-the-less.

A few years ago, when Sirius was nine, he had taken to sneaking out of his house at night. It gave him the illusion of freedom, if only for a time. He often went to the small park at the end of the street and pretended he was playing with kids other than his brother and cousins. One night, a young girl about his age came to the park. He didn't really know what to do at first. He had never spoken with a muggle, but he knew they must be horrible, from what his parents had told him. So he ignored her. She talked to him, though, seeing past his snobbish exterior. She explained that she had seen him playing by himself one night as her family was driving to their home on Grimmauld Place. She watched for him for weeks to see if he would return, and he had, several times, always alone. She decided to come and introduce herself. Her name was Margret, but he could call her Maggie. She held out her hand in greeting.

By this time in her monologue, Sirius had stopped ignoring her and was listening intently. He did not, however, take her hand in greeting. He was afraid that his parents would find out he had been contaminated by "muggle filth." He did start talking with her, though. And that night, their friendship was born.

Maggie was his first true friend, and Sirius thought he had learned at least as much from his time with her as he did from all his instruction from his parents. He learned that his parents lied, or at least, believed a lie. Muggles were not filthy or contaminated. They were just like wizards, only, they couldn't do magic. But they were very smart and had found ways to cope and do most of the things wizards could do without magic. In many ways, he admired her life as a muggle. Maggie also had a great sense of humor and an imagination that rivaled Sirius'.

They became very close - talking, playing and telling secrets. Sirius even told her about magic. He had talked about Hogwarts and flying on brooms and getting a wand when he was of school age. At first she hadn't believed him. He wasn't allowed to do magic outside his house. Sirius was smart enough to know that was a grave offense not only from the ministry, but if his parents found out he had done magic while with a muggle, he'd probably never see the light of another day. But one night, they were sitting in a tree, laughing and telling each other stories and playing make-believe, when Maggie lost her balance and fell out of the tree. Sirius had shouted and tried to grab her before she fell, but he missed. He climbed down a few branches and then jumped the rest of the way to the ground. When he reached Maggie, she was sitting up and looking at him with wide-eyed terror.

"Good! You're okay!" Sirius breathed a sigh of relief.

"How?... How did you do that?" Maggie continued to stare at him wide-eyed.

"Do what?" he asked. He reached out his hand to help her up, but she backed away from him. He stood uncomprehendingly for a moment. "What?" he demanded.

"You stopped me from falling. I stopped a foot off the ground," she said. "You really can do magic." Her voice was a mixture of terror and awe.

Sirius stared at her as what she said sunk into his head. He knew it was possible in emotional situations for young wizards to have bursts of wand-less magic, but it had never happened to him before. Suddenly terrified that his parents would find out, he ran home. He vaguely heard Maggie call after him, but he didn't turn around. He climbed up the latticework on the house, back into his window, crawled into bed, and waited.

He waited a week for some sign that anyone knew about what had happened, but there was nothing. And every night for a week he saw Maggie put a candle in her window. This was her signal that she would meet him at the playground. She never figured out which house was his, but she knew that somehow he saw the light and had always come. After a week, he met her at the park. He explained to her more about the wizarding world and about his family in particular and why he had run. He apologized for leaving her sitting on the ground like he had. And she understood.

Well tonight Maggie would be back at home, and he waited for her to light her candle. He had so much to tell her. Sure enough, the candle was lit, and he went to meet her. He told her about his Hogwarts invitation. She was genuinely excited for him. She shared that she would be going to boarding school. He showed her, with great excitement, his wand.

"Well, what's a wand do?"

" 'What's a wand do?'" Sirius asked in disbelief. "It's only the most important tool a wizard has. With it we can do magic, we can protect ourselves… It's… It's just important. Every wizard has one. Unless you've done something bad and they break it and forbid you to do magic. But that doesn't happen often."

"Show me," Maggie challenged.

"I can't show you. You know that. I'm not allowed to do magic."

"Then what good is it?"

"I… it…Well, one day I'll be able to show you," Sirius said sulkily.

"Well, you know what I can do right now to defend myself?"

"What?" Sirius said in an equally challenging tone.

Maggie stepped forward and punched him in the nose. Lightly. Just strong enough to make a point.

"Ow!" Sirius said holding his nose. "What was that for?"

"See? I'm better," Maggie said and stuck her tongue out at Sirius. "Block that with your little wand."

"Oh yeah?" Sirius' pout turned into an evil grin and he tackled her.

The fighting and giggling went on for a while and they finally flopped down on the ground panting and laughing.

"So when do you leave for school?" Maggie asked.

"September 1st."

"Oh. Will I see you before then?" Maggie asked quietly.

"Of course," Sirius thought that was a stupid question. As long as she lit her candle, he'd come to see her.

"Good." Maggie leaned over and gave Sirius a quick peck on the cheek. Then she stood up and ran home, leaving Sirius to contemplate his first taste of the powerful affects of a woman on a man.

Sirius took his time walking home. He was enjoying the summer night's breeze. When he finally got to his house, he sighed and climbed to his window. He slid through his window and turned to close it. Before he could react, the window snapped shut, seemingly of its own accord and light filled his room. Sirius spun on the spot and his heart stopped. His mother was standing with a grimace of anger he had never seen in his eleven years, murder in her eyes. His father was standing behind her, literally keeping a hand on her shoulder to restrain her. His life was over, at least life as he knew it. He just hoped they wouldn't do anything to Maggie.

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A/N - Thank you to those who review. It's always nice to hear someone is enjoying the story. Thanks also to Mom, mei mei and J.A.Carlton. Love you.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer - I own nothing. Oo, but I was just shown the beautiful box set that's coming out. I hope to own that soon.

Chapter 6

Remus was among the few prospective students who would actually get to see Hogwarts before starting his term. Professor Dumbledore wanted the meeting to take place on the grounds since he had some specific things he wanted to go over. When Remus saw the castle for the first time, he was speechless. It was a great towering structure and the magic could be felt emanating from it before he even entered the courtyard. All he could think was that this was a dream come true.

Professor McGonagall met him and his family at the entrance of the castle. While she appeared a bit nervous at their meeting, she also favored Remus with a small smile after shaking his parents' hands.

"Follow me. I will escort you to the Headmaster." Professor McGonagall led them through a dizzying series of passages and stairways before stopping in front of a large gargoyle that stood as a sentinel at the end of a hallway. She leaned forward and whispered something that sounded suspiciously like "every flavor beans" and the stone gargoyle jumped to life, opening a way to a spiral staircase leading to an upper room. She stepped onto the moving stairs and his family followed suit. They came out in a small receiving room. The professor knocked on the door at the other end of the room.

"Enter," came a voice from the other side.

Professor McGonagall opened the door to the Headmaster's office and waved the Lupins inside. "Mr. and Mrs. Lupin and their son Remus, Dumbledore."

"Ah, yes." Professor Dumbledore was rising from the seat behind his desk when Remus entered the room. Though Professor Dumbledore emanated power, he also wore a warm and welcoming smile. He seemed genuinely pleased to be meeting the entire family, shaking his parents' hands in turn and then laying a hand briefly on Remus' shoulder. This was not something to which Remus was accustomed. Most wizards, once they found out about Remus' affliction, managed civility toward his parents; but often their reactions to Remus ranged from outright disgust or mistrust to barely veiled fear. Some chose to ignore his presence altogether. But he could not remember the last time he had been warmly welcomed by any wizard that knew he was a werewolf. Remus couldn't help but smile.

Professor Dumbledore nodded to Professor McGonagall, "That will be all, Minerva."

She nodded in return and closed the door behind her as she left.

"I am so pleased that you were able to make it here today. There are a few, uh, precautions that I would like to get your approval of before the school year begins."

"Of course," Mr. Lupin replied.

"Good, good. If you will follow me, then." Professor Dumbledore led the Lupins out of his office. He proceeded to take them on a small tour of the castle and grounds. He stopped every so often to speak to a professor that they just "happened" to come across and then introduced Remus to each one. Remus realized that he had been naïve to think that all of the professors and staff were as keen to allowing a werewolf to attend Hogwarts as the Headmaster. In retrospect, he wasn't sure why he assumed their reactions would differ from the rest of the wizarding world, but he was disheartened just the same.

They came to the hospital wing of the school and Dumbledore called out, "Poppy."

A stout woman bustled out of a small room that Remus figured was her office. "Yes?"

"I would like to introduce you to Mr. Remus Lupin."

"Oh dear," she said. At first Remus thought she was nervous, but then she hurried up to him and laid a hand on his cheek and then forehead. "My, my. You look like you could do with a bit of chocolate." She was a very perceptive witch when it came to injuries and quickly noticed that Remus was wearing a high collar that was hiding a bandaged neck. "Oh my dear boy. Let me see if I can find something for that."

As she hurried away again, Professor Dumbledore looked down at Remus and winked. Then he turned his gaze to Remus' parents and said, "As you can see, Remus will be in good hands while he is here. Madam Pomfrey will be the one to escort Remus to his refuge every month."

Madam Pomfrey returned with a potion and block of chocolate. "Drink this, dear. It's a pick-me-up potion." Remus drank the potion and immediately felt warmth and energy spread through his body. When he gave the vial back to Madam Pomfrey, she handed him the chocolate. "Eat this too, it will help." She walked away muttering under her breath about poor students and the dangers they face now a-days and, "as if Quidditch wasn't enough…"

Again the Headmaster smiled jovially at the Lupins. "Now, speaking of your monthly excursion, I would like to show you what we have put in place for your protection, Mr. Lupin." Professor Dumbledore picked up his tour of the grounds where he had left off, rattling off pieces of history and casually introducing Remus to the other faculty and staff. They left the castle and walked onto the grounds of the school. Professor Dumbledore explained that Rubeus Hagrid was the gameskeeper who lived in the shack on the grounds and was very experienced with all manner of exotic creatures. Remus had the suspicion that the headmaster was indicating that Hagrid would be able to handle a werewolf pup without coming right out and saying this, not wanting to come across as offensive.

Remus was intrigued when he realized they were heading for a rather large tree. He could tell by the dirt on the ground that the tree had recently been transplanted there. He also noticed that the branches did not move with the summer breeze, but seemed to move of their own accord. Professor Dumbledore came to a stop several yards away from the tree.

"This is a Whomping Willow. It is a highly aggressive and dangerous tree," the Headmaster explained. Remus felt a prick of nervousness, wondering where he was going with this information. "However, every Whomping Willow has a calming spot. You just have to know where it is." With this, Professor Dumbledore started toward the tree while he signaled the Lupins to stay where they were. The closer he got to the tree, the more wildly the branches swayed until one of the longer branches swung down toward the Headmaster in an attempt to hit him. Very calmly, the Headmaster ducked slightly and then aimed a stunning spell at a knot near the bottom of the tree. Immediately the tree froze. With the tree no longer moving, it was now easy to see that there was a hollow in the trunk of the tree. Professor Dumbledore indicated the Lupins should now follow him. He turned back to the tree, ducked into the hollow, and disappeared.

Mr. and Mrs. Lupin exchanged glances and cautiously approached the tree as if they expected it would un-freeze and lash out at them. Remus followed behind.

The hollow was actually the entrance to a very long tunnel. After several minutes, Remus figured that they had to have walked off the Hogwarts grounds by now, but where they were heading, he did not know. After what seemed like an hour, the ground rose sharply and a door could be seen at the end of the tunnel. Professor Dumbledore opened the door, which led into an old rundown house.

"This house will be yours, Remus," the Headmaster said in a most serious voice. "Every month, when it is time for you to transform, you will meet Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing. She will then lead you to this house to spend the night. All of the doors, windows, and every other conceivable entrance have been magically fortified to prevent anyone from being able to enter. It is far enough from the school that any noise you make will not be heard by the students. You will be safe here. No one will learn your secret unless you let them." Professor Dumbledore paused. "Every morning, after your transformation, Madam Pomfrey will retrieve you and attend to your injuries. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Remus was unsure of what to make of the house. He had never had so much room during a transformation. Yet, he had also never been left utterly alone. There was relief in knowing nobody would be around. He did not have to worry about escaping and accidentally hurting someone he loved. On the other hand, he liked to believe that part of him knew his parents were nearby and that he was loved. He was not sure what the wolf would do if it knew he was completely alone.

"Remus, I know that you are more aware of the reactions of other wizards to your condition…" the Headmaster began.

"Don't worry, Professor. No one will find out," Mr. Lupin jumped in, with a significant glance at his son.

Remus understood what his father was saying, for they had already talked about this before coming to Hogwarts. Not only would it be dangerous for Remus if word got out that he was a werewolf, but it could also cause problems for the Headmaster and the school. Many Parents would threaten to remove their children from the school if Remus was not removed. The Headmaster himself could be removed from his position if the governors decided to vote him out. Considering that many of the members were pure-blood wizards who were just looking for an excuse to get rid of the Headmaster, this was a very likely possibility. Remus' father tried to comfort him by telling him to think of this as the only seven years of his life when he would not be stigmatized by the label "werewolf" since, once he came of age, he was required to register with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry of Magic.

Remus understood all this and more. He understood that any friends he had would have to be kept at arm's length, not only to keep them from finding out, but to keep them safe. But he was attending school to give him a chance at a future, not to gain friends. At least, that's what he told himself.

"Remus," Professor Dumbledore said, still speaking directly to Remus. "Your parents are putting their trust in me to keep you safe. I am putting my trust in you to follow the rules and maintain the precautions that are put in place."

"Yes sir. I understand, sir."

"Very good. I trust the accommodations are acceptable."

"Oh yes, Professor Dumbledore…" Mrs. Lupin said.

"Please, call me Albus," he interrupted.

Mrs. Lupin smiled and nodded. Remus realized it had been a while since his parents had been openly accepted as well.

"The accommodations are fine," Mr. Lupin said.

"Yes, wonderful. Thank you," Mrs. Lupin added.

"Wonderful. Shall we return to the school, then?"

After they returned to the school, Remus' parents exchanged a few last words with the Headmaster and then the three of them left. Now, they were off to Diagon Alley.

This was as thrilling to Remus as the trip to the school. As he and his family were walking into the bookstore he noticed a boy his age watching him. He smiled shyly at him and the boy smiled brightly back. There was not trace of fear or uncertainty in his eyes, just the smile of one child greeting another. He could not remember the last time he actually felt part of the wizarding world. And here he was, buying books and supplies and getting ready to attend school, like any normal wizard child. The day could not have been more perfect. He was awed and inspired by all the things he saw, and he could hardly wait to get to school to begin his education. He felt like a door of possibility was open to him, just waiting for him to step through.

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A/N Thanks again to all who read and review. And special love to Mom, mei mei, and Sifi.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer - not mine, just having fun.

Chapter 7

On Saturday, it seemed that both Peter and his mum were taking their time getting ready for the trip to Diagon Alley. In fact, when they still had not left by eleven o'clock, Mrs. Pettigrew said, "Why don't we leave at lunch time. We can start the trip at Florean Fortescue's."

"Mm-hmm," Peter nodded his agreement.

They traveled by floo powder and landed in Gringotts. After brushing themselves off, they headed straight to Florean's for some ice cream. Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor had the most delicious ice cream in almost every flavor imaginable, including some that didn't at all sound appetizing. Peter got a two-scoop ice cream cone, one strawberry and the other cherry, with sprinkles. His mother ordered just a small cup of chocolate. Peter found himself relaxing as he ate the food and he began to chat freely. Food had always been a source of comfort for him. He looked around the small shop and noticed a boy his age watching him. The boy was wearing glasses and had a mass of black hair that would have deeply embarrassed his mother. It stuck out at odd angles, especially in the back, and Peter couldn't help but wonder if this was an intentional "style" or if the boy was just that careless with his appearance. On closer inspection, he noticed the boy was well dressed, though in casual attire. Peter decided the hair-style must be intentional, though he couldn't imagine why anyone would want his hair to look like that.

After the ice cream, Peter and his mother headed down the street to buy his things. There were so many books. Peter glanced through a few of them. He was particularly intimidated by potions, but a few of the other courses seemed more interesting… or at least more doable. His mother then bought robes for him and, finally, they went to Ollivander's Wand shop.

Peter stepped into the store and was immediately awed. The place seemed to pulse with subtle magical energy. He watched Mr. Ollivander finish up with another customer. The wizard had pale eyes that seemed to penetrate into Peter when he looked at him. It was as if he were searching his very soul in order to find the perfect wand. This made Peter shift nervously from foot to foot. When Mr. Ollivander told Peter to step forward for measuring, Peter jumped slightly and let out a soft squeak. He stepped forward and allowed the tape measure to beginning taking various measurements. He vaguely wondered what the length of his nose had to do with his wand, but who was he to question. After a short time, Mr. Ollivander appeared to be satisfied with the measurements taken and commanded the tape measure to stop. It took roughly 30 minutes of testing wands before Peter took hold of the one he knew was his. Something like an electric current ran through Peter's fingers as he held up this wand. He felt its power and it thrilled him. Within minutes, the wand was tucked safely in a bag with his other possessions. Peter smiled fondly in memory of the wand and his excitement grew in anticipation of being able to use it.

Over the next several weeks, time seemed to alternate between slipping by much too quickly and dragging on at a turtle's pace. These alterations matched his moods. Sometimes, even after making a choice to accept something, the living with that choice doesn't get any easier. It didn't help, either, that his mother seemed to be just as reluctant to have Peter leave. While she was proud of him and tried to act excited, Peter could tell that she was already feeling the loneliness that would follow his departure. He wondered what she would do with no one in the house to keep her company. At times he even felt guilty, though he wasn't quite sure why.

But just as he knew it would, September 1st arrived, and Peter and his mum were heading to the train station. They traveled in silence, the air heavy between them. When they reached the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10, Mrs. Pettigrew gave Peter gentle directions for making it through, and followed close behind him.

He loaded his things onto the train with the help of an older student. This helped calm some of his unease. At last it was time to say good bye. Mrs. Pettigrew gave Peter a long hug, then let him go with a kiss on his cheek. Peter turned and boarded the train.

Before he had a chance to find a seat, the train started moving. He was almost at the back of the train, thinking about his parting with his mother, and not paying particular attention to where he was going. His eyes had started tearing up, so he tried to wipe them surreptitiously on his sleeve. While his head was still bowed, he accidentally bumped into someone.

"Pardon me," he said.

"Watch where you're going!" said a harsh voice.

When Peter looked up, he was standing face-to-face with a thin, greasy-haired boy his age. Cold, black eyes stared back at him and a malicious grin spread across the boy's pale face. Peter glanced around and noticed that there were a boy and girl with this one, and a few older, mean-looking students were watching the exchange with interest.

"S-sorry," Peter blushed. He knew instantly his show of weakness had just made things worse for him.

"Look! He's crying," pointed out the girl and the group of onlookers started laughing.

"I am not!" Peter protested, and tried to back away.

"Bulstrode, I think he just called you a liar. Did you call her a liar?" The cold-eyed boy gave him a slight push. Between Peter already trying to back up, the push, and the unfamiliar movement of the train, Peter fell to the floor with a thump, only increasing the laughter around him. This was definitely not the beginning he had been hoping for.

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A/N Thanks again to all who read. I hope you're enjoying the story (even though this chapter is about Peter). Thanks to those who review. And much love to my stalwart companions Mom, mei mei, and Sifi.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer - usual. Thank you, Rowlings.

Chapter 8

Remus looked out at the darkening sky. With a sigh, he turned away from the window and headed downstairs. Tonight would be his last full moon at home until the winter holiday. There were just three days left until he would be sitting on the train going to Hogwarts. That also meant he had almost a full month to get settled at the school before he would transform.

He felt a deceptively gentle tugging, a longing of sorts. He reached the first floor landing and continued to the cellar without stopping; he simply called out, "Mum. Dad."

"Is it that time already?" he heard his mum ask. She was trying to sound casual and unconcerned. He knew they kept a close watch on the time on the days of his transformation. In fact, it had only been in the last year that he started taking responsibility for knowing the time and being ready. He figured if he was going to be on his own, he'd better learn to do what was necessary without his parents holding his hand.

The three of them went to the cellar. It was windowless. At the far end was a sturdy floor-to-ceiling metal cage – or prison cell. Remus had never found a pleasant description for his once-a-month home. The cage and cellar were protected with magical wards and charms to make sure Remus would not be able to escape. He entered the cage and knelt on the floor at the far wall. It was here that his latest chains had been mounted. The set-up was similar to something one would see at a vet's office. There was enough give for the dog to stand and turn its head, but its mouth could not reach any part of its body, thus preventing the vet from being bitten while he examined the dog. There was not enough give in the chain to allow the dog to lie down. Like the dog, Remus was, essentially, pinned in place.

An involuntary shiver ran through his body and he closed his eyes as his father clicked the collar into place. Mr. Lupin gave a tug on the chain to make sure it was secure. Though the wolf was much stronger than his father, and would be able to break bindings his father could not, Remus allowed his father the illusion that he had some control over what was going to happen and that he was helping.

While Remus' affliction was, obviously, not easy on anyone in the family, it seemed to affect each of them in different ways. Remus, of course, had to live with it. There was not only the physical pain of the transformation and that which the wolf caused during the night, but also the pain of being ostracized; the guilt of knowing what his affliction did to his family and how they were perceived by others. Not to mention the fear of the very real threat he was to those he loved, as well as strangers, if he ever managed to get free. His parents were abandoned by several of their lifelong friends and even a few family members. And too few others had stepped up to take the place of those they lost. His mum cried every month, watching what his affliction did to her son. His father, as far as Remus could tell, felt guilty and had become obsessed with finding a cure. Remus supposed his father felt he should have been able to protect him. So Remus was actually a little relieved that he was going to Hogwarts. He hoped that, though he was afraid of facing his transformations alone, his parents would find peace and rest, no longer being responsible for him – no longer having to see what he became. He was also relieved that he would not have to see their pain anymore, and he wondered if that was selfish of him.

Mr. Lupin mussed his hair to let him know he was done. Mrs. Lupin gave him a kiss on the cheek and cupped his head for a moment, her eyes filling with tears. As they left, they locked the cage and headed back up the stairs. Remus could hear his mum's muted sobs.

Remus waited. Some time later, he noticed a shift in his perception, and so it began. His hearing, eyesight, and sense of smell intensified. His sense of touch also intensified until it felt like his whole body was on fire. His muscles struggled and his joints popped, fighting against an unseen force. He cried out, wanting nothing more than to pass out; but that never happened. He could feel his bones adjusting and shifting as the wolf form took over. Then there was nothing.

As Remus woke up the next afternoon, his mind replayed vague sensations and images, as if he were remembering a dream. He remembered the sound of his cage opening in the morning and muffled whispering. He remembered pain and frustration. He remembered a moment of excitement.

With this, his eyes popped open and he sat up in bed. "Mum!" He winced and reached up to touch his throat. As he felt the bandage under his hand, he noticed it was larger than normal, covering his entire throat up to his jaw line. He heard his mum racing up the stairs. She tapped on his door once, out of habit, and then opened the door and looked at Remus concernedly.

"What happened last night?" His voice was a gravelly whisper, but he needed to know if anything happened.

Mrs. Lupin saw the panic in her son's eyes and moved quickly to the side of his bed, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Nothing, dear. Everything's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course. Now rest up a bit longer and I'll bring you lunch."

Remus nodded agreement and settled back on his bed. The nagging feeling that something was wrong wouldn't let up, however, so he got out of bed. At the top of the stairs, he stopped. He could hear his parents' voices coming from the kitchen and was relieved to hear both of them.

"What was that all about?" his father asked.

Mrs. Lupin answered, "He seemed to think something happened last night."

"Hmm…"

"What? What is it?"

"He's starting to remember more." At this, Remus' body tensed and he stole down a few stairs as quietly as possible to be able to hear better.

"What do you mean? Nothing happened."

There was a moment of silence before his father answered. Remus could picture his father's thoughtful expression as he tried to find the right words for whatever he was about to say. "He almost broke free of the collar last night."

More silence. This time Remus could picture his mum's stunned face. His father continued, "Two of the bolts are completely out of the wall and the third one is about half-way out. He's getting stronger. I don't know what we're going to do when he gets older. Buy a stronger cage, I guess… I don't know." Another long pause. "You know, they say he's learning to control the wolf."

Remus was confused by this statement. They couldn't be talking about him but, to his knowledge, his parents didn't know any other werewolves.

"No!" his mother said emphatically. "Absolutely not."

"He may actually be the only one who can help."

"No! All he creates are monsters. He trains them all to kill. It's not him controlling the wolf, but the wolf being allowed control over him!" Remus' mother's voice had a sharp edge he had seldom ever heard before.

"I know… You're right. I know. It's just… I feel so helpless. And it's all my fault anyway. I just wish I could _do_ something."

Mrs. Lupin's voice softened, "I know, dear. But that is not the answer. We'll find a way."

Remus went back to his room. He mulled over what his father had said, over and over again in his head. How could his father actually believe it was his fault? Once again his thoughts drifted to Hogwarts, and he took comfort in the fact that, for a good part of the next few years, he would not be a burden to his parents.

- - - - -

A/N Thank you again to all of my readers. Thanks also to those who review. And, of course, what would my A/N be without thanks to Mom, mei mei and J.A. Carlton. Love you.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer - Is it really necessary?

Chapter 9

It had been over a month since Sirius had been caught coming back into his room. And he was still alive. But he could not remember ever being more miserable. His only comfort was that he would be leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow.

He hadn't seen Maggie since that night and tonight would be his last chance to talk with her. He waited, hoping to see her put out her usual signal, but he knew he wouldn't. She had stopped signaling a week after he'd been caught. He figured she must be pretty mad that he suddenly stopped coming, and he just wanted the chance to explain it to her. As he waited, he thought about what had happened.

_"Sirius Orion Black! What do you think you are doing?" His mother's tone was already at shrieking pitch and Sirius winced after the quietness of the evening._

_"I…"_

_"What were you doing out? How. Dare. You! Imagine what your father and I were thinking when Kreacher woke us up to tell us you had gone!" At this point, Sirius looked around and saw his mothers faithful, if slightly obsessed, house elf standing next to her. His eyes narrowed. He hated that creepy little elf. It always got him in trouble. "Don't look at Kreacher like that! We came to your room, because, surely, you would not be sneaking about. But no! Not only were you gone, you were with a… a…" _

_Sirius was slightly amused at his mother's dramatics, as she clutched her chest and acted like she was going to faint. Apparently his amusement showed on his face, because he was suddenly backhanded by her. He stood stunned and rooted to the spot. His mother continued to rant for the next five minutes at full volume.__But for the ringing in his ears, Sirius didn't hear a thing. He wasn't even sure if the ringing was due to the slap or anger. Finally, she must have worn herself out, because he saw her turn and storm out of his room, Kreacher in her wake, leaving only his father and him standing his room._

_"Sirius," Mr. Black said in his most calm and deadly voice. "Sirius, you are starting school soon. We had hoped you were ready. But this…" he made a sweeping movement with his arm, gesturing toward the window, "this behavior… You've gone too far this time." Mr. Black shook his head in disappointment. "Where did we go wrong?" he said, half to himself. "No matter, once you get to school, you will fall in line. Slytherins look after their own. They have ways of correcting a wayward brother. And you WILL fall in line or you will lose your place in this family." After a pause, his father seemed to decide something. "You will redouble your studies until school starts. You will spend your time either in the study, the dining room, or here. You will not be allowed out. Kreacher will stand guard at night until we decide you are trustworthy enough to not need a guard." Without another word, his father turned and left._

_A week later, Sirius had never been more lonely. His parents had not even allowed him time with Regulus, fearing he would somehow influence his brother. And given half a chance, he would. His studies included everything about the superiority of pure-blood and the evils of muggles and the dangers of mixing the bloodlines. He learned more than he ever wanted to know about Salazar Slytherin and the Black Family. He was inundated with propaganda until his head was spinning and he was beginning to doubt himself. He needed to get away. _

_So that night, he decided, Kreacher or not, he would get out of the house. Once he thought the house elf was asleep, he snuck out of bed and headed toward his window. When he tried to open it, however, he couldn't._

_"Young master is not allowed to leave."_

_"Kreacher," Sirius hissed. He had been startled by the elf's voice. "Kreacher let me out."_

_"No, young master."_

_"Come on!" Sirius thought for a moment. "Kreacher, I'm giving you a direct order. Let me out." House elves were not allowed to disobey direct orders from their masters._

_"No, young master. My mistress' orders supercede yours and my mistress has ordered you not be allowed to leave."_

_"Kreacher!" In frustration, Sirius reached out to grab Kreacher, but found himself flying through the air. He met the wall by his bed with a painful, bone-jarring thud and landed on his bed._

_Within seconds his mother swept into the room. "What happened?"_

_Sirius shook his head and then pointed at the elf. "He threw me!" he said indignantly._

_Mrs. Black looked at her faithful servant. "Young master tried to sneak out again. When he could not succeed, he attempted to harm Kreacher."_

_"Sirius!" his mother turned on him. She gave him a cold look and Sirius was surprised when the shouting didn't start. Instead a cold sneer spread across her face. "Serves you right, Sirius. I hope you learn from this." And then she was gone._

_Sirius wanted to throttle Kreacher, but there was no way he was going to lay a hand on him._ See, I can be taught, mother. _He laid awake the rest of the night, unable to expend his frustrated energy. Far from dissipating, it only seemed to build. In the early morning hours, when the light of the day was just dawning, tears of anger started falling. He had no other release. At first, this made him even more angry. Men don't cry. But eventually, worn out and tired of fighting, he succumbed to the tide and, surprisingly, drifted peacefully to sleep._

_The next day had been a rough one. He was so tired during his studies that he drifted off several times. Fortunately, since he was left alone so much, nobody seemed to notice. _

_At dinner, his father said, "Kreacher reports that you finally showed remorse for your actions last night."_

_Confused, Sirius just looked at his father. He couldn't remember saying or doing anything that would give Kreacher that impression._

_Right on queue, Kreacher spoke up, "Young master cried himself to sleep last night."_

_Nothing could have been more humiliating. Sirius dropped his eyes and stared at his plate. He felt hot shame sweep over him. He heard Regulus drop his fork and knew he was staring at him._

_"Very well." evidently misinterpreting Sirius' actions, his father said, "Kreacher will no longer need to stand guard in your room."_

_Sirius nodded to acknowledge he had heard. In a voice barely above a whisper, he croaked, "May I be excused, please."_

_"Yes."_

After that, Sirius waited every night for the signal from Maggie. He desperately needed to talk to her. But no signal came. So tonight, his last night at Grimmauld Place, he would go to her. He waited until the house was quiet and snuck out. He approached Maggie's house and then scanned the ground for pebbles he could throw at her window to get her attention. Managing to find a handful, Sirius chucked one and heard the tink of the stone hitting her window. When nothing happened, he threw another one. After the third stone, finally, a light came on in her room. He watched as she parted her curtains and opened her window.

"What?" she looked around and then spotted Sirius below.

"Oi. Can we talk?"

"What? What do you want?"

"Can we talk?" Sirius repeated.

"Uh… No."

"What? Come on. Let me explain."

"Leave me alone!" Maggie said.

Sirius knew she'd be angry, but he was surprised she wouldn't even give him a chance to explain and was even more surprised when she slammed her window shut. He proceeded to chuck more stones at her window until she came back.

"Go away!" she whisper-yelled.

"Will you just give me a chance to explain? Please? I leave for school tomorrow…"

"Explain what? I have no idea who you are! Now go away or I'm going to call my dad."

Again the window closed, but Sirius barely noticed. He was too shocked to comprehend what just happened. _What was she playing at? Didn't know who he was…_ He tossed another couple of stones. This time, her window didn't open. Instead, a rather opposing man stepped onto the front landing of the house, his arms crossed in front of his large, solid chest.

"Young man, I strongly suggest you vacate the premise."

"Yes, sir," he said. He found a certain irony in the situation that this was the first time he had opportunity to meet her father.

Sirius wondered slowly back home, still trying to figure out what happened. As he approached his home he noticed light coming from the front of his house. This was not good. When he reached the walkway up to the house, his mother opened the door.

"She doesn't remember you. And she never will."

_A memory charm! _Sirius thought. His head dropped at the realization that he'd just lost the only friend he'd ever had. That would explain why she had stopped signaling him, too. They knew! His parents knew he would try to see her again, so they took her from him.

"You are part of this family, whether you like it or not. It would be better for you to just accept the way things are. Things will not get easier if you continue to fight us."

Sirius nodded, more out of habit than any sort of agreement to what she said. _I think I preferred when she screamed._ Sirius thought numbly as he headed for his room.

Lying in bed that night, he made a vow to himself. He'd be damned if he was going to accept anything. No! If his parents thought he had been fighting them before, it was all-out war now. He would do what he could to become anything but what _they_ wanted him to be. He already knew they were wrong about pure-blood superiority. He also knew that his family readily accepted and used dark magic. He would not. Let them disown him. At least he'd be free. He smiled to himself. _Hogwarts, here I come_!

- - - - -

A/N Thanks again to my readers and reviewers and my beta (J.A.Carlton) and editors (mom and mei mei). Love you all!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer - Same.

Chapter 10

James was excited, and nervous, when he woke up the morning of September 1st. Today was the day! He was going to Hogwarts. He'd be learning real magic; meeting other kids like him; it was the start of a whole new chapter in his life. He jumped out of bed and ran down to breakfast. He couldn't have said later what he had eaten. He ate it too fast and was not at all paying attention to his food. He could barely sit still at the table.

His parents kept casting amused glances in his direction. When he was done eating, his mum said, "James, why don't you double-check that you have everything."

"Mum." James rolled his eyes. "I've double-checked everything three times already."

"Well good, you can do it again."

"It's either that," his father said, "or we'll have to put the body-bind curse on you to keep you out of trouble." Mr. Potter winked at his boy.

"Okay, okay. I can take a hint." James got up from the table and headed back to his room. Once there, he did a quick search of his room and bathroom to make sure he had everything he would need. He made sure his owl, Montrose, was secure in his cage. Everything was set to go.

"James, come on now. We're ready," Mrs. Potter called from the bottom of their stairs.

James ran down the stairs, jumping the last five.

"Well," Mr. Potter said. "What took you so long?"

James just smiled.

"We're taking a cab, dear. You'll need to help your father with your things."

James sighed and, with seeming great effort, made his way back up the stairs to his room to grab Montrose. His father followed behind and took his trunk. Once they were outside, the cab driver helped Mr. Potter load the trunk into his car. He did not seem pleased to be chauffeuring an owl and kept eyeing it warily, as if he expected it to escape and attack him.

At the train station, Mr. Potter found a cart they could use to push James' things to the proper platform. When they reached the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Mr. Potter turned to his son. "Now, James, all you have to do is walk straight toward the barrier. Don't worry, you'll pass right through it. Okay?"

James nodded his head and walked straight ahead. Even for someone who has grown up with magic, some things are difficult to fully comprehend until they are experienced. He believed his parents, but the wall looked so solid he still cringed as he approached. Sure enough, the barrier was as insubstantial as air and James passed right through it onto platform 9 ¾.

Immediately he was greeted by a cacophony of sound as the Hogwarts students and their families crowded the platform. There were laughter and cheers of greeting amongst the students. Occasionally, there were teary-eyed farewells from parents of the younger students heading off for their first time away from home. The scarlet steam engine at the head of the Hogwarts Express billowed impressively, waiting for its cars to fill up with its passengers.

James recognized a few faces, but there was no one he really knew as he scanned the crowd. He heard his mother and father arrive on the platform behind him. They ushered him to the train. Mr. Potter loaded James' trunk while his mother fussed over his hair and clothes.

"Mum," James said in a complaining voice. He waved her hands away.

"I'm sorry, dear, it's just…" Mrs. Potter sniffed and pulled out a handkerchief with which to wipe her eyes and nose.

"We're very proud of you, James. We know you'll do well." Mr. Potter beamed at his son.

"Stay out of trouble, dear. And write me. I want to hear everything that goes on," Mrs. Potter said. She reached out again to brush James' hair out of his face, but she stopped short and clutched her handkerchief instead.

James replied with a mischievous smile, "You know me."

"We do indeed," his father said with a wink and a smile.

There was an awkward pause when his parents didn't want to say good-bye and James didn't want to be rude and just leave. Finally, he stepped close to his mum and gave her a hug. "Love you, mum."

"Love you, too, dear."

He stepped back and then reached out to shake his father's hand. "Good bye, dad."

"Good bye, son." James was a little surprised to see the sadness in his father's smiling eyes, but he said nothing. Instead he turned and boarded the train. Before entering the car, he gave one last wave to his parents, then he stepped inside.

There was a lot of jostling as students moved about the narrow passage down the center of the train cars. Some students were searching compartments for their friends. Others, mostly the younger students, were simply trying to find empty compartments or friendly faces.

James glanced in a handful of compartments as he made his way down the aisle. He found one that only had a few students in it, but before he could even speak, they all turned and glared at him. _Okay, not that one_, he thought. He continued down the line and finally found another nearly empty compartment. There was only one boy sitting there. He was probably James' age, though he looked… aged somehow. He appeared very neat and tidy, with sandy-brown hair and a pale face. The boy was reading one of his school books. James wasn't sure what kind of company this boy would be, but he was running out of options.

"Excuse me," James announced his presence. The boy startled and looked shyly up at James. "Are these seats taken?"

The boy seemed genuinely surprised by the question. "Um… no. No, they're not." He smiled.

"May I?" James gestured to a seat. The boy nodded vigorously. "Thanks. I'm James, by the way. James Potter."

The boy extended his hand, "I'm Remus. Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you."

James smiled. "Is this your first year at Hogwarts?"

"Yes. I'm very excited. I didn't…" but whatever he was going to say, James never found out. Remus stopped short, blushed, and decided to ask a question instead. "You?"

"Yup. I can't wait! I'm going to be in Gryffindor," James said confidently. "What about you? What house do you want to be in?"

"I don't know. I hadn't really given it much thought."

"Well, as long as it's not Slytherin. But you don't really look the Slytherin type." James said giving Remus an appraising look.

Remus blushed again, for a different reason this time. Remus really hadn't considered what house he was going to be in, but he figured a werewolf had a pretty good chance of ending up in Slytherin. He just hoped he was wrong.

James was suddenly distracted by something outside of the window.

"What is it?" Remus asked and leaned to be able to see what James was looking at.

"That family…" James said. The family his father had told him about, The Black Family, was walking snobbishly down the platform. James couldn't help but shake his head in wonder at how much they stood out, even for wizards. Their stately manner and pride set them apart from most of the other families. And they made eye contact with only a few other families in attendance. It was soon easy to spot which families would be acknowledged by the Blacks. They were all old, pure-blood houses of power and privilege.

The older of the two children, a handsome, black-haired boy, walked slightly ahead of the rest of his family. The family stopped at one of the entrances to the train. James noticed they had brought a house elf along and wondered how they managed to get it onto the platform without any muggles seeing it. The house elf loaded the boy's belongings onto the train. James watched the exchange between the boy and his family carefully. He couldn't hear what was being said for all the other noise, but the parting looked tense. For all the love that his family showed him, there was nothing but coldness in the eyes of this boy's parents.

"Charming," James heard Remus mutter.

James nodded. He almost felt sorry for the boy. "Well don't feel too bad for him. That's the Black Family. They're all into the dark arts." James leaned back in his seat. "Slytherin for sure."

Remus gave James an odd look. "Maybe he's not that bad. Maybe he doesn't have a choice."

"Hmph. Well, their family has been known to be into the dark arts for generations now. I don't see why he would be any different. Look at the way he walks. He's just like them."

Remus simply shrugged.

The compartment was quiet for a minute, when their door suddenly slid open. Both boys were shocked to find the object of their recent discussion staring back at them.

"Mind if I join you?" the dark-haired boy asked. He was practically bouncing with excited energy - quite the contrast from the controlled, stiff stance he donned around his family.

James just glared at him, but Remus said, "Sure," and smiled, as much because he was amused that this boy wanted to sit in the compartment with them as the fact that he wanted the boy to feel welcome, despite James. "I'm Remus. Remus Lupin."

"Sirius Black," he said with a dramatic bow. This did nothing to improve James' opinion of him.

"And that," Remus nodded his head in James' direction, "is James Potter."

If Sirius recognized the name, or look of loathing on James' face, he didn't acknowledge it. James hated the dark arts and anyone that had anything to do with them. Sirius, on the other hand, was well aware that he'd have to overcome his family's reputation.

"You know, there's a cure for that," Sirius said to James as he took a seat. His face looked quite concerned.

Confused, James responded, "For what?"

"Sour-puss face," Sirius said, smiling broadly at his joke. Remus chuckled and tried to cover it with a cough. James glared for a few seconds and then turned his attention out the window.

Sirius just shrugged. "So what are you reading?" he asked Remus.

"Hogwarts: A History. It's a fascinating book about…"

"Hogwarts, I'd wager," Sirius cut him off in an obviously disinterested tone. "Neither of you happened to bring anything fun to do on the trip, did you?"

Remus looked slightly put out. James turned his head from looking out the window long enough to favor Sirius with another glare. The train had pulled out of the station by this time.

Sirius sat on his chair making various noises with his mouth. He was trying to get some kind of reaction from the other two in the compartment. Remus would smile and chuckle, but a quick glance at James would quiet him and he'd return to reading his book.

"I'm bored." Sirius announced and stood up. He opened the compartment door. "I'll be back."

James and Remus watched Sirius leave and then exchanged glances.

A short time later there was a commotion outside of their compartment. James slid the door open and both he and Remus looked at what was going on.

A small round-faced boy was sprawled on the floor in a seated position. There were two boys and a girl standing over him. James also noticed a few older boys and girls were watching with approval. The boy leading the attack said, "And which curse should I use?" He was smiling malevolently, and the others, who were obviously all part of the same group, were giggling. Several suggestions were made, including some by the older students. What surprised James was that the boy, with greasy hair to his chin and a long hooked nose, seemed to know all of the curses mentioned, and indicated that he could perform them. But the boy could not be any older than he.

James stepped out of his compartment. "Leave him alone!" he demanded. He felt, rather than saw, that Remus had come out of the compartment, too, and was standing with him in the confrontation.

"And what are you going to do about it?" one of the boys asked.

James walked forward and helped the round boy to his feet. "You all right, mate?"

The boy nodded his head, his expression changing from fear to gratitude. "Y-yes."

James took another step closer to the gang. He was now standing between them and the other boy, almost toe-to-toe with the leader. Remus had also kept close by.

"I wouldn't get that close to that pile of grease, James." The small crowd parted, as it always seemed to for Sirius, and he came up behind the small gang, effectively surrounding them. He knew that his cousins were among the older students watching. He also knew they would not step in. This was as much a test for him as the greasy git in front of him. "You might slip. No doubt that's how… I'm sorry, what's your name?" Sirius directed his attention to the unknown boy behind James.

"P-Peter."

"Ah. No doubt that's how Peter fell."

The greasy-haired boy whirled to face Sirius. His face was a mask of rage and his solid black eyes glared angrily. "I'll have you know…" he started.

"Yes, yes," interrupted Sirius, who proceeded to walk toward the gang, then between the boys and girl, and came to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with James. As he walked by the dark boy, he patted his chest condescendingly, then wiped his hand on his own robe as if to wipe off dirt. "You're rather scary, aren't you? Now run along and play with your little wand."

The boy began to raise said wand, but James was much faster. Before the boy had a chance to raise his arm, James' wand was pointed directly at his face. "Try it," James snarled. He really didn't know any curses, hexes, or anything that would help in this situation, but nobody else needed to know that. To James' surprise, the boy smirked at him as if he knew James was bluffing.

It was at this moment, however, that the prefect, making her rounds, appeared in their car. "What is going on here? Fighting?"

James quickly lowered his wand.

"No ma'am," Sirius said with his most sincere smile. "We were all just getting acquainted. Why, this here is James, and that's Peter, and Remus, and Bella, and Narcissa is back there…" he pointed to each person in turn.

The prefect looked suspiciously at each person in the car, but no one seemed inclined to deny Sirius' claim.

"I would suggest you all get back in your compartments and wait until school to… get acquainted." With this, the crowd dispersed and James, Remus, Sirius, and now Peter, all entered the same compartment.

"Thank you," Peter said in a hushed voice. Nobody had ever stood up for him before, not without there being some benefit in it for them.

"Don't mention it," James said with a dismissive wave. "What was that git playing at, anyway? Do you really think he knew any curses?"

"If that's who I think it is, yes. I've heard my cousins talk about him." Sirius said the word "cousins" with a surprising amount of venom. "Supposedly he's not very likable, somewhat of a loner, but he's very… useful. Knows a lot of dark stuff. Though nobody's really sure where he learned it all."

James cast an appraising eye on the boy across from him. Perhaps Remus was right and he had judged Sirius unfairly.

Sirius smiled mischievously back at James. "You don't have a clue how to duel, do you?"

"No, not really," James smiled back. "But they didn't know that."

Sirius burst out laughing, a contagious sound that made everyone else in the compartment laugh.

As the laughter died down, Remus split his attention between his book and the conversation around him, while Peter sat in awe of his new companions. James and Sirius discussed quidditch and what teams were the best hopefuls for the world cup.

Each boy present had been missing something, some part of who they were, like lost pieces of a puzzle. In that compartment, on that day, the pieces started coming together to form a greater picture than any of them could have created alone. Destiny called to each of them and a future began to take shape that none of them could have foreseen.

- - - - -

The End...

... Though... To Be Continued in Book Two: The Way We Are. Follow the boys through their school years, becoming the men that help lead the charge against Lord Voldemort. I will start posting that story on Monday.

Thanks again to those who read the story. It's good to see others enjoying it. It's good to see reviews, too. Thanks again to Mom, mei mei, and J.A. Carlton. Love.


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